A Helping Hand
by Cormag Ravenstaff
Summary: "You're a huntsman, or at least you want to be. If you walk out that door, you better never show your face in Beacon again. Huntsmen are not quitters." Oneshot.


**This takes over a period of days/weeks. It is undefined and not necessary to know any exact details.**

* * *

 **A Helping Hand**

He lashed out with unbridled ferocity, hoping to break through her guard. His blade met Pyrrha's and rebounded.

Her retribution was swift. A kick connected with his knees and he fell. A forearm bashed into his cheek, smacking his head back.

On the ground, he heard his sword get kicked away. The tip of Miló touched his aura tinged neck.

"Jaune Arc loses, Pyrrha Nikos is the winner," Glynda Goodwitch said, her voice well-rehearsed in the sentence. "Mr. Arc, you should never commit to such a risky attack. Had this been a real fight for your life, you would not have made it out alive."

He nodded, voice mute. The day when Jaune protested his defeat had never come. His expression comprised of disappointment. Not of the result, but of himself.

"Mr. Arc, should you not begin to make improvements, I cannot safely say a Huntsman career is right for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Forty-two.

Forty-three.

Forty-four.

His pushups were just for warmup. An action to remind him that he was good for something. The problem wasn't the fact that he wasn't in shape, far from it.

It was that he was a cheater and coward.

He reached fifty and laid on the ground, catching his breath in the private training room. Its cold grey walls felt like a cage Jaune could not bust out from.

Pyrrha had been training him, but she went easy on him. She'd lie through her teeth, cover it with an affection tinged smile and say, "Jaune, I'm trying to improve you." She just wanted his approval, for some reason.

Jaune sighed. He needed to come clean about his transcripts to someone other than Pyrrha. Preferably someone like Ozpin who could end the farce that was Jaune Arc, Huntsman-in-training. The secret's weight would crush him before long.

But he'd lose all he'd worked for…

"Not like that's much at all," he grumbled.

"Low on confidence?" Yang said, leaning on the doorframe, inside the room. Her locks were tied back into a rare ponytail.

"How did you know?" he sighed. Jaune couldn't sum up the effort to be surprised of her appearance.

Yang shrugged and walked forward. "We all saw the fight. We've all seen _every_ fight you've been in. Bottom of the class, Jaune Arc."

"Thanks for the reminder. I don't know why I bother with this anymore." His hand waved around at the training room.

Yang rolled her eyes. "I actually came to ask when you would start putting in effort."

"Huh?" Her words struck like a lash from a whip. Of course he was putting in work! Every day after day one he'd poured time into training!

"Then why haven't you gotten a real trainer yet? Pyrrha obviously isn't working out for you." Yang wore a smile, as she always did. It made her statements sting worse, as if she'd been mocking him.

"What do you mean?"

Yang threw her hands up. "The definition of insanity is doing something the same and expecting different results each time. You keep fighting these people with techniques you've learned from Pyrrha. Maybe they work for her, but they sure as hell don't for you. So do you want my help, because that's what I'm here to offer."

A single question and word formed in his mouth: "Why?"

Her grin turned almost feral. "Well, us blondes gotta stick together, right?"

That was the Yang he knew. Gone was the stern woman that had taken hold of her sunny form. Still unsure as to her motive, he relaxed and with a smile replied, "I accept."

* * *

Even though her primary weapons were not a sword and a shield like Pyrrha, Yang did a decent job of kicking his ass.

"Let's take a break," Yang suggested, setting down her weapons and moving to the wall. Her light coating of sweat made her skin shine in the light.

In contrast, Jaune's skin was drenched in sweat. Without care he dropped his weapons down and collapsed next to Yang.

"One question," he panted.

"The answer is no," Yang said with a wink.

Jaune blinked. "What?"

"Weren't you going to ask me out on a date? I'm sorry Jaune, but I don't let just anyone take me out to dinner." The quirk in her grin heightened with the mirth. Yang put a hand over her heart theatrically.

Rolling his eyes, Jaune pressed on to his actual question. "Why do you think Pyrrha is less suited to train me than you are? I mean, she uses the same weapons as I do." He paused. "More or less."

Yang pondered his question for a moment, seeking the best way to answer. "It's her semblance. I don't know whether she realizes it, but Pyrrha always is using it. Her weapons are metal, so manipulating them must be second nature to her to give her an extra edge."

"How do you know?"

The blonde held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. "Ember Celica is metal. Ever wonder why I'm the second highest ranked person instead of number one? Pyrrha's semblance prevents me from taking her place. I just can't hit her." A frown passed over her face. "I've spent a lot of time watching her fight, trying to figure out every quirk. I haven't figured out a way to take her down."

He rested a hand on her shoulder, cringing at the thought of how sweaty it was. "Hey, there's always a way to solve a problem. We just haven't thought the right way to beat her yet."

Yang smiled. Its infectious nature spread to Jaune. "Thanks, Jaune. You've spent some time with her, any ideas?"

He brushed his wet hair back, giving himself time to think. "Well…I guess it just amounts to a mind game, doesn't it? Get her to walk into a trap of doing one thing with her polarity and then capitalize on it."

His companion nodded thoughtfully. "You might be on to something there. We'll need to think on it and come up with a plan."

Yang leapt up, wearing a sadistic grin. "But breaktime is over! Get up, buttercup, and let's get you into shape."

Scowling, Jaune stood. "I _am_ in shape."

"Didn't stop me from sweeping the floor with you. I barely know how to use these," she stuck a thumb over her shoulder at the weapons, "so you've got a lot time to still put in if you want to be Pyrrha."

Jaune chuckled. The grey walls seemed a bit less daunting with a friend to help him.

* * *

He dropped to the floor, dead. Yang sat next to him, her tank top soaking up the sweat. "You're doing a lot better, Jaune." She was out of breath. That was a first for their training.

"Thanks," he huffed. "But I'm not good enough yet."

Yang shrugged. "Don't discount how much further along you are."

Jaune sat up, mirroring Yang's posture. "I'm not getting there fast enough." His expression was hard, almost disappointed in himself.

A finger jabbed its way into his vision, poking his chest. Yang wore a frown, but characteristic to her it had attitude. "That kind of talk is going to run you into an early grave. For where you were at when we started, compared to now, is noticeable change."

She stood up, and held a hand out to him. "Are you done talking like an idiot now? Because we still have work to do."

Jaune laughed. He swung his hand and let Yang pull him up. "Thanks Yang, I needed that."

She smirked. "Maybe you need a bit more incentive? If you win against Pyrrha, we'll have dinner. On me."

"Are you serious?" He risked getting tongue-tied at the mere thought of it.

Her cheerful laugh was even louder in the small room. "Well, you'll have to beat her to find out."

* * *

Their swords met with a familiar clang. Yang would overpower him if they turned it into a contest of strength. She'd done it numerous times before.

Jaune shoved his shield up at her arm. His opponent disengaged, keeping her shield ready in case of retaliation.

The two blondes circled each other, looking for an opening. Yang, ever the impatient one, darted forward swinging.

His white shield intercepted the blow and his sword shot out for the kill. But Yang's shield caught it, albeit barely. Both reeling from their shut down attacks, they stumbled.

Yang recovered first. She dropped her shield abruptly and grasped her blade with both hands. Going for the kill, she swung it down on Jaune.

He held up his shield, grunting as it absorbed the blow. But Yang's foot swept out and caught Jaune's knee, sending him to the ground.

Her blade touched his throat.

"Fuck!" he shouted. Jaune slammed his fist on the ground. It hurt, but he didn't notice. Or rather, he didn't care.

"What's wrong?" Yang asked with worry. "Did I break through your aura?"

Jaune stood up and walked past Yang. She watched him as he made his way to the door. The blonde's hand rested on the doorknob.

"So that's how it is, then?" Yang called out to him. "After all this, you're just going to quit?"

"Yang, you don't—"

"Bullshit, Jaune Arc!" she yelled. "You're a huntsman, or at least you want to be. If you walk out that door, you better never show your face in Beacon again. Huntsmen are not quitters."

"You don't know me, Yang!" Jaune shouted back. He abandoned the door, turning instead fully towards Yang. "I'm a coward and a fraud. I'm a failure!"

"Maybe if you stopped acting like a failure, you'd stop being one," hissed Yang, closing the distance between them. "Where does this all come from? Sure, you're not the best, but—"

"I forged my transcripts."

Yang's tirade stopped. "You what?"

"My dream was always to be a huntsman. I was never good enough to get into an academy like Signal, so when Beacon's enrollment came around I decided to go for it. Paid a forger to create documents that would get me in." He could barely speak, nor could he look Yang in the eyes.

Silence. Then, "That's it?"

He looked up to see Yang frowning at him. "What?" he replied, confused.

"I don't give a damn about your transcripts. You've shown you can fight, so that's what I care about. You've shown you can improve. That's even more important."

Yang stepped right up to him. Not a foot of distance was between them. In a low voice, she asked, "Are you done giving up yet? Huntsmen don't quit when the going gets tough."

Jaune bowed his head. Walking over, he picked up his sword. Yang nodded in approval, and picked up her weapons.

"Yang?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

She flashed a smile while readying her weapons. "Thank me by kicking Pyrrha's ass tomorrow."

* * *

"Jaune Arc, it's your turn to choose an opponent this time. Perhaps Cardin, who is closer to your skill than—"

"I would like to fight Pyrrha." He smiled as he said it, ignoring the groans of those around him.

"Mr. Arc, are you sure?" Professor Goodwitch asked, peering down at him over her glasses.

"I am." He stood and began the walk down to the ring. Yang gave him a thumbs up as he passed her. His confidence fluttered just a little bit higher.

He passed Pyrrha on the way as well. Together they walked down. Just as he moved to take his place, she stopped him.

"Are you sure about this, Jaune?" Her tone held confusion.

"Don't worry about it, Pyrrha. I'm ready." Jaune took his position.

She smiled at him and took her stance.

"Begin!"

Unlike all their previous fights, Jaune let her take the first move. She approached him slowly, confused as to the whole matter.

He smirked. And then she attacked.

Pyrrha's blade smashed against his shield, eliciting the shriek of metal colliding. She sprung back almost as soon as she struck, dancing away from him.

Jaune advanced, swinging wildly. Pyrrha frowned and began to parry every strike he sent her way. Remembering Goodwitch's words, he never committed to any of the attacks.

His shield shot up, breaking through her guard. The unexpected motion drew her semblance from her and Jaune slid back as if pushed.

The moment the force that pushed him ceased, he darted forward. Pyrrha stood ready, shield up in preparation for the attack.

Jaune threw his shield at Pyrrha.

The redhead waved her hand and flicked the shield aside instinctively. As her attention shifted back to Jaune and his sword hurtling towards her chest.

The round shield intercepted the attack, but Jaune pulled his weapon back quickly. He stabbed again, aiming for her face. Her sword blocked, but she was on the defense. No one put Pyrrha Nikos on defense.

With two hands on his sword, Jaune swung another brutal blow at Pyrrha.

But Miló spun in her hands and suddenly a gun pointed towards Jaune's chest instead of a sword.

 _Bang!_

For one beautiful moment, he'd been succeeding. It slipped away as he flew backward and landed on his backside.

Miló touched his neck, in sword form again. Jaune sighed and looked up to meet Pyrrha's disappointed gaze.

But it wasn't disappointed. In fact, she was smiling. "Well done, Jaune. Whatever training you've put in really showed there!"

He grinned and let her help him up. Professor Goodwitch gave him an approving gaze. "Much improved, Mr. Arc. If you keep improving like this, we'll make a huntsman out of you yet."

Jaune bowed his head slightly in respect. Together he and Pyrrha left the ring.

Yang waited for him with a smile. "I told you that you could do it."

"I didn't win," he said. Sure, he was pleased, but losing wasn't what he had been working for.

Yang threw back her head and laughed. "Doesn't mean I'm less proud of you. All this means is that you're paying for dinner."

"W-what?" Jaune stammered, confused.

She gave him a wink. "Did you forget about our little bet? I sure hope you didn't." Yang stepped out into the ring and turned to Goodwitch. "Professor, can I challenge Pyrrha?"

Jaune leaned against a wall, ready to watch Yang's fight with his partner. Sighing in relief, Jaune smiled. He needed more training. That was for sure. Yang no doubt would be willing to help him more.

And that was a good thing, he decided as he watched the fight.

* * *

 **Author Notes: JaunexYang always has been a pairing that I've liked. They seem like they'd make a good pair.**

 **If you enjoyed this, please go check out my other RWBY stories! Chances are you'll like them too!**


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